


Who brings a bird to a gun fight?

by ZombieCyborgAssassin



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, Winter Soldier (Comics)
Genre: In honour of the TV show announcement, Sebastian Stan seems to pick really awesome characters tho, Stan and Mackie show, because their broship is goals
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-04
Updated: 2019-05-04
Packaged: 2020-02-21 14:34:13
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,226
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18704278
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ZombieCyborgAssassin/pseuds/ZombieCyborgAssassin
Summary: Just a little something-something in honour of the announcement for The Falcon and The Winter Soldier show.I just hope they have awesome writers because I struggle to enjoy TV/Movies most of the time because my writer brain in always on.That, and The Winter Soldier and The Falcon are severely under utilised characters imo.Title unrelated to the story, I just thought it was funny.





	Who brings a bird to a gun fight?

**Author's Note:**

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> [www.KatherineHenshaw.com](https://www.katherinehenshaw.com)

Bucky squinted his eyes open in the fluorescent lit room, the coppery scent of old blood stinging his nose. The damp concrete walls were bare and only a single metal door, undoubtedly bolted closed, was all he could see, indicating that he was possibly underground. He’d been at enough Hydra bases to know that he was in some pretty serious trouble. He didn't remember how he got there, so he assumed that he was wiped. A single speaker high on the wall was emitting a weak strain of a song that he was sure was something terrible that Wilson had tried to get him into, not that he could hear it properly through the static. No camera.

He lifted his head to look around, ignoring the way the flickering lights shot pain through his temples, he wasn’t strapped down for a change, so the Hydra agents must have quite a lot of confidence. 

Shaking off the mental cobwebs, he swung his legs over the side of the metal gurney, trying to ignore the faint echoing urge to list his rank, name, unit and number. Shuri had done a hell of a job at clearing his head, but some echos remained.

He didn't know how long he was waiting in the bare room, listening to one song change to the next, trying to entertain himself by trying to pick which song was playing. After an age, Bucky could hear through the door the sound of feet, he jumped up and slid to the space where the door would cover him, took a deep breath, and waited.

As they approached he heard muffled voices, it sounded casual and relaxed. Good. He had the element of surprise.

The sound of a key turning and then the door opened, concealing Bucky behind it.

He heard, “Huh,” before he used the door to slam into the people that opened the door. After that, all hell broke loose. 

He swung around the door and proceeded to beat the crap out of them while he stripped them of their weapons for his own use, but not before one of them sprayed him in the face with what tasted like Coke, old coke, not that awful new coke that tastes like the fluid Hydra used to use to clean the joints of his old arm. Before he left, he made sure to punch each of them in the temple with his left fist. He had enough blood on his hands as it was, and who knows, maybe they would still be there when he was able to call in backup and they could extract the cyanide capsules before they woke. 

He cautiously but quickly made his way through the corridors making sure to memorise everything he saw, as he was trained to do by Hydra, in case he needed the information later. 

Soon he came across a control room of sorts. Computers everywhere and screens up on the walls that were showing satellite images of Wakada, which seemed off because he knew Shuri had found a way to block the satellites from being able to see their country. Only one of the computer screens was on, it was white and showing nothing other than the number “42.” Frowning he tried accessing other parts of the computer while looking over his shoulder, but it was like there were no other programs or functions in the software. 

Feeling the pressure of time, he gave up and returned to making his way to the exit only to be confronted by at least thirty Hydra agents. He ducked around the corner before the first bullet was shot and reached for his own weapons. 

After a few traded volleys of gunfire, the sound of a grenade going off somewhere above them made everyone pause, giving Bucky the chance to take out a few of them while they were distracted. In the silence between shots, he heard their comms devices shouting for back up. Grim satisfaction filled him as he realised that he was going to have a better chance at escape now.

He listened as at least three ran off down the other end of the hallway. He took the opportunity to check his weapons and ammo, while thinking about the approximate fifteen enemy soldiers. Before he was able to round the corner to go on the offensive and fight his way through them, he heard a  _ whoosh _ and then more bullets being fired. Peeking his head around the corner, he saw the goggled visage of non-other than Sam Wilson stabbing someone with his massive wings. He rolled his eyes at the impracticality of the giant appendages in such close quarters.

“Hey Barnes, you gonna just-  _ grunt _ \- stand there lookin’ stu-  _ grunt _ \- pid, or are you gonna-  _ oof grunt- _ give me hand?” Wilson’s sass could not be ceased by a one on twelve fight and it gave Bucky a moment of respect for the man. Just a moment. He was an annoying little shit if he was honest. 

Sighing, he tucked his guns into the back of his pants, making sure the safety was on and there wasn't any Hydra agents coming around the corner. Rolling his neck and shoulders, he reached in under his left armpit and used his thumbprint to detach the prosthetic that Shuri had created for him. The telltale sequence of hisses and weight moving inside the mechanics ended almost as quick as they started without any nerve pain whatsoever, allowing Bucky to twist the shoulder and remove it with ease. 

Peeking around the corner, he saw that Wilson was still fighting, the weird Red Wing backpack thing now a giant metal bird watching his six. Something he was not aware was a thing that it could do. He didn't think anything of it though, after all he’d fought alongside a talking Raccoon and a talking tree.

When he saw his opening, he threw the arm as hard as he could at the centre of the fight, hoping beyond hope that it helped Wilson, even though he didn’t have a clue why he asked for it.

“Barnes?”

He looked around, wondering how Wilson could sound so calm while fighting. 

“Barnes, come on man.” 

Bucky saw that the giant red bird was the one talking, not Wilson. 

“Yo, Buckaroo, you gotta wake up, it isn't real.”

Bucky sluggishly opened his eyes and found himself lying on the living room floor, having fallen off the couch. He was covered in sweat and half the coffee table was sticking out of the TV. He blinked sheepishly up at Sam, only to see his wave a hand in a rueful dismissal.

“You wanna talk about it?” he asked in his smooth ‘I’m-here-as-your-friend-and-a-trained-counselor-and-I-won't-judge-you’ voice.

Bucky stared at the remnants of the TV for a moment before looking back at the other man and sighed, “you want a coffee?” Not waiting for a response, he got up and made his way to the kitchen, Sam following closely behind him. 

After watching Bucky put together a couple of strong coffees in silence, Sam decided to try and coax him to open up, “You know it's better to to talk about it now before it gets worse.” 

Bucky took a sip, tipped his head back and sighed. “I was Mrs. Nesbitt.”

Sam wouldn’t let Bucky live it down for a solid five years.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


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